


how to feel like an angel

by yijeong



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Blood and Injury, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Pyromania, Self-Harm, Violence, he doesnt actually die tho, or does he?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-07-29 03:21:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yijeong/pseuds/yijeong
Summary: a guide by lee donghyuck





	1. set yourself on fire

**Author's Note:**

> uh, hi. i have no explanation, s basically me projecting and s based off a textpost   
i saw a while ago. s gonna be graphic at parts so i'll put warnings???? idk  
s mostly for me to project and cope so i don't actually do anything harmful ^__^  
sorry to hyuckie i love him w my whole heart

hyuck was a bit of a pyromaniac. he didn’t like to believe so, he just has an obsession with fire, but he can’t deny the fact when he goes to therapy for it every tuesday at 6pm like clockwork. 

it’s a waste of time, honestly.

again he sits alone at the lakeshore, knees bloody and scuffed up, drawn close to his chest as the tide barely reaches the tips of his worn sneakers. in one hand he flicks a lighter repeatedly, watching as the flame flickered to life, watching as a breeze of wind snuffed it out. it’s as fragile as any life is. it’s peaceful.

and with that, he pushes off his shoes along with his socks and stands tall, burying his toes in the cold sand. it’s so cold and gloomy for mid july.

he tosses his phone down and looks out into the waves, seeming endless as they eventually blended in with the gray sky in the distance.

without a second thought, or hesitation, he flicks the flame once more, a smile playing on plush lips, and brings it to the sleeve of his hoodie, a rush of satisfaction rushing to his mind.

the fire burns his skin, he’s sweating inside the fabric, and he welcomes the feeling. it’s unbearably hot and painful and comforting and blissful.

he lets the flames swallow him whole on a tuesday afternoon.


	2. cut your arms until they're more flesh than blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big self harm tw!!! like huge!!!! pls dont read if graphic descriptions of cutting will trigger you :[[[

the itch under donghyuck’s skin irritates him. it sits below the tanned surface like powdered glass, rubbing into every pour, seeping into his veins.

his hands shake and the itch intensifies, he needs to get rid of it.

razors are pretty, they glint in the dim light the single lamp in his shitty room provides. they almost glow, they almost look inviting to him, like they’re begging to let them take a joyride across his arms.

maybe he’ll let them.

it’s an unbearable itch now, he needs to tear his skin open, he needs to pick out the glass and purify himself once more. it’s what he does best.

and with an unstable hand he digs the sharp metal into the softness of his inner arm, pushes down until it bites into the meat and drags it across. blood bubbles up, it looks beautiful against his honey tones, and drips down into his lap.

he repeats it again. and again. and again.

he doesn’t stop until his arm is completely mutilated, gaping wounds staring back at him.

the itch is gone, and again he is pure.


	3. tape your mouth shut and speak through violent acts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so messy n not how i wanted this chapter to go at all m sorry

there’s a strange feeling deep inside the chest of a tooth-picked limbed korean teenager, who sits on the bathroom floor at 3 am, the fluorescent lights painting him with a sickly glow.

it’s a bitter and disgusting feeling, like emotional puke, and it makes his vision haze over with red and makes his knuckles throb.

donghyuck rises on two wobbly ankles, looks at his reflection in the mirror.

the duct tape across his mouth looks shiny under the artificial light, underneath his eyes look like death, the cut on his right cheek is still scabbed over. 

he can’t stand the sight, and the throb in his knuckles starts to ache. tiny shards of glass intrude his soft flesh, glittering like the most precious jewels, standing out amongst the blood that starts to bubble up and drip, drip, drip down into the white ceramic.

it’s beautifully messed up, and donghyuck wants to scream, but he can’t. a bony hand meets with broken glass once again.

tiny pieces get pushes even deeper into his skin to make room for new ones, he feels the pieces worm their way between his knuckles, into the sinewy meat of his hands.

nothing makes the feeling deep inside go away.

donghyuck wants to scream, but he can’t, even as a stray fragment finds a home between his ribcage, nestled between his lungs, and as another resides soundly into his throat, and a third deep within his guts.

he feels better now.


End file.
